


Oh Tee Three

by omphale23



Category: Canadian Actor RPF
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, M/M, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The way you hold a club, Mr. Rennie, is a delight to behold."</p><p>Callum cracked up. Bad enough that Hugh, that prick, had followed him out to the range and was sitting there rolling his eyes and snickering every time he took a swing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Tee Three

**Author's Note:**

> With a special additional prompt, _golf_, provided by **slidellra**. Many thanks to **lovelokest** for her speedy and awesome beta, and for some inspirational title suggestions.

"The way you hold a club, Mr. Rennie, is a delight to behold."

Callum cracked up. Bad enough that Hugh, that prick, had followed him out to the range and was sitting there rolling his eyes and snickering every time he took a swing. When the bastard actually tried to chime in, holding a banana and clearing his throat like some guy on the Golf channel, that was asking too much.

"Fuck off. I'm working on my swing." Callum bent his head again, but not before he saw Hugh waggle his eyebrows.

He missed the ball. His follow through was off, too, and he ignored Hugh's snickered remarks about not knowing his balls from a hole in the ground.

Didn't matter how good Hugh was at sucking cock, or the way his voice broke when he came, muttering profanities and promises. Golf was _sacred_, golf was where Callum worked everything out. Golf and Hugh Dillon? Not a good mix.

He wasn't going to be the one to break. This was his place and Hugh was barging in; he could wait until Callum was damn good and ready to call it a day. With any luck he'd end up with a sunburn on his shiny head. And then maybe he'd grow back his hair. The bald look was _not_ working.

"And Rennie swings and drives his balls deep, deep into the…"

Callum ignored him, focusing on lining up the shot, sliding his hips into position, twisting his head to the side as he reached back, felt the pull of gravity and inertia, turning the motion and holding it and then the vibration, the solid thunk of club striking ball and the grace of a perfect follow through.

Golf now, fucking Hugh Dillon later. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.


End file.
